


off key, at heart

by calla_lilalma



Category: Given (Anime), Given (Manga)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, set after ch.28 of the manga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 07:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21240734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calla_lilalma/pseuds/calla_lilalma
Summary: They may not have the singing voice to move mountains, but to each other it never fails to pull at the heartstrings.





	off key, at heart

**Author's Note:**

> I loved Akihiko and Haruki's voices in the anime so i wrote a thing about it.  
Hope you enjoy! :)

**1.**

“I love you, Haruki.”

An hour or so isn’t nearly enough to recover from the flush of happiness and the way it comes back like forest fire when Akihiko repeats those words as they step to his house-to _home_.

He buries his face to his hands, only peaking from the gaps between his fingers, body language turned shy again. Yet his ears are still wide open, caressed by the low, soft baritone the words carry to every nerve inside him.

“Akihiko! You said that already!” he whines, mostly from embarrassment. Haruki would be lying to himself if he claimed his heart doesn’t stop and fly out of his chest simultaneously. 

He never believed he’d hear this, prayed with each centimeter his hair grew.

Arms wrap around his waist, palms resting on his stomach playing with the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer to a solid wall of muscle until his back pressed into a warm chest.

“I wanted to say it here too. Now that I’m back.”

It seems more like something Akihiro keeps trapped in his own mind, but still the tone of his voice is open and vulnerable and Haruki is soft for him.

**2.**

Haruki hums when he cooks, or does chores in general, Akihiko had realized since they were simply roommates before, but it’s something that he didn’t know he had longed for to hear again.

Things are still tense here and there, but he’s holding his instincts back, lets the impatient child within him stomp and demand but ignoring it all together.

He insisted in helping but Haruki had none of it, leaving him to do anything else but. Akihiko preferred to watch him, the way his nape reddened at the weight of his gaze, but otherwise focused. At some point, he got used to it and start humming a pop song that he’s heard on the radio.

It’s barely heard, but Akihiko has been paying attention and the room was deadly quiet. The humming becomes the only thing travelling across the rooms.

Soothing and tingling; those would be the words to describe it. Much like the base Haruki plays, it leaves an underground impression, not as a bang like the riff of a guitar or the chaos and order of the drums, but as a second impression that only a part of the crowd picks up and appreciates.

Akihiko is the only audience now and here. To see Haruki is such a natural state of relaxation, in his own environment, letting go from overthinking every word and simply uttering a tune buried in his chest. He stays still, head buried in his folded hands on the table, looking until his eyelids become heavier and heavier. Sleep becomes a temptation, yet his consciousness clings to the humming, afraid to lose it, records every second of it.

Maybe he’ll make something out of it. Maybe start humming or whistling it himself to keep himself connected to Haruki by one more thing. For others it might be a miniscule thing but Akihko doesn’t care.

For now, he chooses to near Haruki, indulge in his newest obsession of wrapping his arms around the other’s waist and gently- because he’s still afraid that he’s dreaming or that everything will break again and will stay irreparable- press his lips to Haruki’s plump ones, capturing the hum which sends shivers down his spine and each millimeter of his flesh at full attention.

It vibrates all the way to his stomach- every vibration of Haruki’s serenity in contrast to his restless soul, massaging its gordian knots and untangling them one by one easily like children’s shoelaces.

**3.**

The time apart they’ve had made Haruki more akin to the changes in Akihiko now.

_He tries to change his ways, to become a better man for him_, that’s what he said. The words never cease to make his heart flutter inside his ribcage.

He sees one of those changes, or more accurately hears it clear as crystal. In the tone which he says his name.

Every time, the syllables roll on his tongue with such care and feeling that was locked up deeply within him previously. Akihiko holds a lot inside of him, Haruki knows-has longingly stared at his back wondering why it is so tense, how he would do anything if Akihiko only uttered a single word.

“Haruki.” _There it is again._ His heart skips a beat.

Haruki snaps to attention, his vision refocuses on the notes on the sheet in his hand. Oh yeah, middle of composing, Wednesday night, he reminds himself.

“Oh sorry, I was just-” he shakes the papers in his hand.

Akihiko stares at him, his eyes the same forests that he wanted to explore so desperately, get lost in them. Before, he stole glances, refrained from showing that desire to Akihiko lest he finds out and everything plummets to the ground and breaks.

Now he can technically bask in them, yet that damn embarrassment of his always comes to the surface. It’s all too soon, too fresh, too unreal. Like a lucid dream he expects to wake from any moment.

“You alright?” Akihiko presses, reaches a hand to cup his face, thumb tracing his cheekbone. It’s so warm, the rough callouses make it all the nerves on Haruki’s body catch fire- from the tips of his hair to his toes, goosebumps erupt on his forearms and spread in shivers.

“Y-yeah.” He smiles, wobbly to surf on an ocean of embarrassment. Akihiko doesn’t look entirely convinced and he certainly doesn’t want him to know how he’s always possessing his mind. Thus, he leans to the hand on his face, “I’m alright.”

Even if it’s a dream, he allows himself to at least enjoy it as long as it lasts. Receive some of that utter happiness until the new day dawns and pulls him back in.

**4.**

It takes a few weeks until he hears Haruki laughing without any restrains.

They were not exactly walking on eggshells, yet the atmosphere had a hint of carefulness in. It’s only natural for the other not to want to be hurt again, after all that. Akihiko embraces it, to not be the man that burdened Haruki with his unneeded angst and brashness. It was a miracle by itself that Haruki _loves him_, disastrous and poisonous as he was- still is, he hasn’t completed mending his ways- that he opened his house, his life again for him.

His chest still becomes painfully tight at the sight of the couch where he forced himself on Haruki; there is no sugarcoating it. A fateful justice is obvious in the fact that he has to see it over and over, to sit on it with Haruki next to him and have the memories haunting him and whispering darkly.

To hear him laugh like that, sweet and vibrant and blooming all kinds of warm light on the deepest, most obscure parts of his soul, where even he thought were hopeless.

And to add to that delight, he was the one that made Haruki laugh freely like that.

It was in the middle of a dramatic scene in a bleak movie that Akihiko was never that invested in; the shine reflecting on Haruki’s focused golden irises and his smooth cheeks, hair framing his face like no picture and portrait could replicate its eternal beauty was much more intriguing to him.

The details are an insignificant blur; one moment, he laughs at something completely out of tone of the movie and the one after the next Haruki joins him, the sound ringing on the walls of the small apartment, like windchimes at a summer festival. His eyes are closed and he’s clutching his middle as his face reddens to a rosy pink to a fully passionate red rose.

Akihiro stares and stares, writes every millisecond of those notes with his eyes and ears, to remember and smile at the moments everything is bleak and all motivation is gone.

**5.**

The complete truth is this; Akihiko’s laugh _is absolutely hilarious._

One would expect Akihiko to have a charming laugh that melts the already molten hearts of his millions of fans.

But that’s _far_ from the case. He is sure he might actually have found something that is not disarmingly heaven sent on Akihiko.

In a casual movie night at his apartment, everything is silent, Haruki is too deep invested in the struggles of the protagonist in the film, so much so that he’s a little glassy eyed from the touching scenes.

Then he hears it; a sound so unnatural and fake that has Haruki snapping out of it and slowly turning his head towards Akihiko in mortification.

At first, he’d thought he choked on something that his windpipe was closed and needed immediate help. But he realizes that’s nearly not the case.

And oh, that’s him actually laughing that makes those abhorrently funny robotic noises. Like an alien species programmed a code in a robot of what they thought was human laughter. Certainly, it’ll have a good use on Halloween in order to scare everyone. Akihiko’s fan club for example, which will be perfect for Haruki’s peace of mind.

Before he knows it, he’s wheezing with laughter at the sound, almost choking to death himself and his sides are definitely hurting like hell. Akihiko’s eyes burn through him, however he can’t physically stop, even as he feels the oxygen abandoning his lungs.

Once he calms down from continuous giggles, he locks eyes with Akihiko; his gaze holds that same softness inside that he grows to see more frequently. Luckily, his outburst has taken all oxygen and brain function and none of the embarrassment he usually feels kicks in.

The giggles don’t stop for the whole night, escalate to full blown laughter multiple times, especially when Akihiko laughs too, thankfully also when he hears why.

By the end of the night, his face is pomegranate red-like usual by now- and there is a weight out of his chest that he hadn’t realized he was caring. Their parting kiss feels lighter, freer in a way.

It’s late at night with half lidded eyes that he realizes the weight was from his own hesitation to let Akihiko in again, from his own self-imposed feeling of walking in a tightrope on the height of Tokyo tower.

**6.**

Sometimes, it strikes Akihiko, how Haruki says his name.

Like any fucking word ever, it is said with a certain tilt depending on the emotion behind them. But to Akihiko, his name from Haruki’s lips is special. It’s spectacular.

It reminds him that Akihiko is part of Haruki’s life, that he exists.

From that night, the effortlessly melodious tone in Haruki’s voice has returned to the surface, calling out his name casually for very minute things but all those times send Akihiko into overdrive.

Haruki may not have the singing pitch that Mafuyu has, but to Akihiko, it’s the most perfect voice his ears have had the privilege to hear.

During that separation, torturous as it was, that absence appeared out of nowhere. He had become so accustomed to it, had the gall to expect it like some spoiled brat, that when it was void from his life, due to his own stupidity, it was like the world had lost it’s musicality. His drums didn’t sound the same; duller and unappealing. His violin too, though that was already appalling to his ears, that time it sounded like nails to a chalkboard.

“Akihiko!”

The clouds storming his musings dissipate in one word, that swells pride into his chest and he looks up at the man approaching him.

_They are not only hanging out_; he giddily reminds himself. This is a proper date, with a small succulent as a gift. He was planning to take flowers, no matter how banal and cliched he finds them, but Haruki likes them. In a middle ground, he bought his small plant that doesn’t die after a week and is more fitting for them.

Now Haruki is calling out to him, looking more pampered than usual with some strands of his hair made into small braids, in a semblance of when he had long hair. His fingers twitch in want to run his hand through silken gold, untangle the braid and tousle them up. But he doesn’t, it’s too soon, he’d be too abrasive and greedy to rush things so much.

And his voice. Holy fuck his voice is oxygen to his starving lungs. Haruki is spring in all ways, creating and giving life with everything within him, even to lowly scum like Akihiko. It’s so incredulous how whipped he truly is.

“Hey.” He says lamely.

_Well fucking done, you asshole_, he internally slaps himself.

**7.**

Akihiko turns heads, whenever he goes; that Haruki knows very well from before he even knew him. It’s how Haruki himself fell in love with him, after all. One of the many.

Yet the difference now is how Akihiko holds his hand, like it’s natural and there is a swell of pride in his dancing heart. He’s fully aware of the irony, when he warned Uenoyama and Mafuyu about public displays.

Take-chan and some friends from other bands are here as well, some already pouncing on the meat and the beer. The smell makes him salivate.

Ignoring the knowing looks from Take-chan and Yayoi alike, he reaches to help himself. To his luck, he sits just in the middle between both grills, unable to reach either one easily, without making a mess and knocking things out.

A plate suddenly appears in front of him, full with the parts he likes and perfectly cooked. He looks at Akihiko in puzzlement and a telltale flush spreads on his cheeks.

Akihiko clears his throat, “Here.” He says in a surprisingly embarrassed voice, barely heard above the noise from their surroundings. Haruki furrows his eyebrows at the unusual sight but a mischievous streak in him pushes an idea to the front of his mind.

He desires to hear more of this, more hints of this unravelling.

Under the table, Haruki traces his arm with his fingers in what is hoped to be a teasing touch. From his bare bicep to his inner elbow, his forearm and inner wrist, all the while he looks up at him with shy eyes.

It works, as Akihiko twitches and his knee hits the underside of the table, sloshing around some of the liquid inside the glasses. The features are redder than he’s ever seen him- apart from when he confessed to Haruki- and he openly gapes at him, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, with no words coming out.

“Y-yeah. S-sure. It’s nothing…” he stammers cutely, contrasting the gruffness of his voice, “Any-anything you need!”

Haruki wants to chuckle and coo so much but he holds it in. Instead he links their hands together after a few seconds of light touches to the rough meat of his palm and hums in satisfaction. It only makes Akihiko more flustered and adorable, letting out nonsensical sounds and half words.

In this one instance, the tables have turned and he understands the pleasure that Akihiko gets from teasing him all this time.

“Damn it Haruki…” he groans at last, squeezing back, fully red to his ears and nape.

Haruki purrs lightly only for Akihiko to feel, pleased with himself.

The disgruntled look from Take-chan and the astonishment in Yayoi’s, both of whom definitely witnessed the exchange amidst the chaos of the party around them, for once don’t work at all, to Haruki’s elation.

**8.**

It’s always a surprise when Haruki raises his voice in anger. It makes one feel guilty; after all, it’s a great feat to make him angry, to finally snap, someone as patient and understanding as him.

Akihiko is reminded of the last time he roused an outburst, one that he deserved and in a way was too tame for Akihiko’s atrocious actions.

However, this time he doesn’t understand the reason.

“I told you I’m trying to change!” he snaps back, temper under control but still the heat of contempt burns in his veins.

Akihiko runs a hand through his hair, now slowly grown again, “I know what you said!” he yells and all of the sudden the energy in him is steamed out of him.

“Then what’s the fucking problem?!” Akihiko demands. Things are going to shit and he doesn’t know what he fucking did, where the hell did he slip for them end up arguing like this. _He thought he had it under control._

Haruki looks at him, gaze tender but cautious Akihiko hates himself even more vehemently for being the reason behind it.

“I’m afraid you’re changing too much that you’ll become someone completely different.”

Akihiko is stunned into silence.

At his look, the other continues his explanation, “It’s been a couple of months since we…” he made a vague motion between them, “But we haven’t…gone further than kissing.” His face is red but his eyes are not as shy and averting as in other situations when the conversations hits a similar point.

Akihiko sighs, ruffling his own hair in frustration.

“I…I want to. Fuck, trust me I really do wanna touch. So bad it fucking hurts. But last time-”

Haruki gets into his face, grabbing his cheeks tightly. His expression and squished cheeks would be hilarious in any other situation but the present.

“How long are you going to repent for something I’ve already forgiven you for?” he whispers into his lips. It’s the same teary tone of _that_ time.

“Haruki-”

His next words are swallowed by Haruki’s fierce kiss, catching Akihiko completely off guard. In his surprise, he sticks his tongue inside his mouth and tastes him deeply it takes his breath away.

After the first few seconds of astonishment, Akihiko is overwhelmed with the same caution that makes Haruki angry. His hands stand uselessly at the side in tight fists, wanting so badly to reach out and envelop him and not let go.

The rough kiss breaks and Haruki is still just as frustrated, does the work for him and grabs his hands move them on his hips and pushes him flat on the couch, leaning down again to capture his lips.

Akihiko can’t help but tighten his grip, let go and respond with the same eagerness, tongue meeting tongue.

The uneasiness might have not disappeared yet, but he now learnt that the only problem is his own incapability of forgiving himself. He’s still far from changing to his ideal, it’s only been a few months that’s not nearly enough. That last time they were at this fucking couch like this Haruki had said he’d do anything for him, that he’s willing to help him if he asked.

Maybe it’s time he finally asked, break that final wall to his core down and invite him in. Beg him to continue saving him.

**9.**

Haruki feels powerful, hearing Akihiko so wrecked- all because of him. He’s biting his lip, playing with his lip piercing looking down as Haruki with dark eyes filled with so much lust and adoration while Haruki fully takes him in his mouth.

He’s clumsy; it’s been a while and in comparison to Akihiko, he’s basically green behind the ears. But the moans that manage to escape as Haruki sucks him off eagerly are giving him all the confidence he needs to keep going, to prove that Haruki isn’t as fragile and feeble as he might think.

It takes little time to find his weak spots, right on the underside of his shaft and at his slit. Every time he tongues the slit or presses it on the underside, Akihiko gasps and grunt and slightly thrusts upwards, deeper into Haruki’s tight throat.

At one point, he pulls out and moves a strand of his hair behind his ear, looking up at Akihiko with heavy lidded eyes and head resting of his denim-clad thigh.

“You can let go, Akihiko.” He murmurs but in the silence of the room, it echoes loudly along with their panting.

Akihiko lets out a loud, freed groan of resignation as his head leans back on the couch.

“Fucking hell, Haruki.” He growls like a wounded animal and it sends a delicious shiver down Haruki’s spine, as well as to his cock that twitches in desire. Akihiko’s hand approaches to play with that stubborn strand of hair that is too short to stay on the back of his ear.

“I- fuck- won’t be able to hold back if you tempt me like this…” it’s like a plea, for what Haruki doesn’t care.

As a response, he peppers the other’s cock with featherlight kisses, grinning to himself when it twitches and leaks more precum.

“I can take it.” he murmurs onto the hot, sensitive skin.

**10.**

Akihiko had warned him. More than once.

Despite his hesitations, he can’t find himself regretting hauling Haruki off his feet and dragging him to his bedroom, stripping him off his offensive clothes and exposing beautiful fair skin.

He looks so ethereal, so goddamn angelic with his hair splayed like a golden halo on the pillow and his extensive flush spreading to the column of his neck and body. All this flawless skin for him to enjoy.

And he does, opens the door to his desires; he starts from bruising his lips into a swollen red, continues to marking his neck and shoulders with love bites, some pressing his teeth too hard and the others sucking them until knows it will last for at least a week. The sounds Haruki lets out are a harmony on their own, memorable to his ears, a melody that will stay like the first song he played in the drums or on the violin.

He plays with his chest, flicking the peaked nubs with his tongue and earning need whines for Akihiko to hurry up in that cute voice of his, testing his resolve. His nails dig crescent moons into his shoulders, pulls him in to kiss him and gain some control himself but Akihiko continues pinning him down ravishing him.

The preparation passes him by in a blur, the only thing he’s focused on is the way Haruki’s lips let out his name, like he’s everything he needs, like Akihiko is precious.

When he finally enters in him one smooth thrust, Haruki screams his name in bliss and Akihiko feels like a teenager that first jerked of and only a squeeze of his palm was enough to get him off. His previous partners were both amazed and at times frustrated by his stamina and ability to last long, taking them as a challenge to get him off. Ugetsu was the same as him and with the compatibility of their bodies resulted in an explosive sex life. Just like everything was in their relationship.

With Haruki though, Haruki is like a first love is said to be. How everyone and everything portraits it to be. Before, he was cynical, torn apart by his own first love to even believe shit like this.

But now, he wants to live it, with Haruki. Give him what he deserves, broken and harsh as Akihiko is.

So he takes it slower than he has taken any other, listens to Haruki’s sounds of ‘more’ and where he feels it the most, reaches so deep that Haruki can only utter his name. All the while trying to balance his eagerness and roughness for their first time as a couple.

They come together in, watching each other like lovestruck people in rosy romances and the last whisper of his name in a choked gasp is driving him over the edge too, grunting Haruki’s name like it’s a prayer.

**11.**

Haruki is alone when he wakes up.

He expected he would come to see Akihiko chewing and mumbling in his sleep up close, without hiding his obsession with how cute it is, but the sheets are cold and the curtains pulled to not let as much daylight as possible in and hit him in the face.

Turning over, he blushes to his bones at the shot of pain in his back and behind, the passionate last night playing over and over in his head. While he doesn’t regret it in the slightest, his own boldness strikes embarrassment in him. There is no doubt that when he looks in the mirror he’ll find so many hickeys in him, too many to be able to hide successfully from the kids and everyone really.

It all feels like a dream-minus the waking alone part clearly. Still last night, their first as a couple and a distinct step in the right direction with the confrontation that led to it, is already saved to the treasure box in his pounding heart.

In the quiet of the morning, his ears pick up the sound of whistling and he perks up. Like a man hypnotized, he follows it and the sight that he finds is one really stepped up from his actual dreams, the ones that make him more embarrassed than actual wet dreams.

Akihiko stands there, shirtless and with low hanging sweatpants, strong muscled back decorated with red lines and marks, turned to Haruki’s salivating mouth, cooking and whistling a song that had stuck to Haruki’s head and sang it for days on end. The smell of whatever is making makes him wipe his chin to check for actual drooling.

For some minutes, he simply stands there admiring. Truthfully, he’d never thought he’d have this scene playing out in front of him, for him. The time when Akihiko stayed with him after being kicked out was the closest he’d ever reach, a mimic of what his heart truly desired.

Now there he is, whistling like he owns the place, completely comfortable in his skin and this house and far from disappearing.

His presence must have been felt as Akihiko turns around, showing the full glory of his face, chest and abs in a devastating package that makes Haruki bite his lip to again remind himself he isn’t dreaming.

“Morning.” He says, voice gruff, before continuing his whistling tune.

“Of course you can whistle.” Is the first thing Haruki says, bottom lip jutting out in a miniscule pout.

Akihiko laughs, “Jealous?”

“Not at all.” Haruki makes his best effort in whistling which sounds like an owl honestly. It has been a pet peeve of his since he was small; he tried learning but nothing worked. At concerts he went to he wanted to join Take-chan in making the loudest whistling sound at the band playing and when it is them at the stage, he always feels flattered when it happens, more than often by Take-chan again.

In the next moment, Akihiko is right in front of him, grabbing his jaw gently and kisses him, taking advantage of his astonishment to push his tongue inside, pushing his own to rest on the roof of his mouth.

Pulling back just as quickly, he wears an arrogant smirk, the very same he has all the time when he teases Haruki.

“Keep your tongue there, for starters.”

Haruki becomes as cherry red, lips parting to say anything.

“I am going to take a shower.” He announces turning around.

The bastard has the audacity to cat-whistle on him.

“And you are not welcome to join me!” Haruki calls over his shoulder in a tone of finality.

Akihiko joins him anyway.

**12.**

They are ready to leave for band practice, staring at the mirror to hide all the marks in their necks, both wearing turtlenecks suspiciously so. While Akihiko is more than willing to have them shown, preen at the mention of Haruki being such a fierce kitten during shower sex and not letting him go at all, ending up washing with cold water and freezing their asses off, Haruki insisted, face red as if he was in the sauna for hours.

The younglings will ask, most likely Uenoyama, but Akihiko can handle him; he is the other’s role model and Akihiko can pull of a disappointed look and a shake of his head to enunciate his displeasure. It has worked before.

Akihiko is ready to depart, waiting for Haruki at the front door, opening it for him while looking at his phone, scrolling their twitter account feed casually. He wants to post a picture of them so desperately, but Haruki and the younglings will have his head.

“Akihiko.” Haruki calls. He hums, raising his eyes to see Haruki right in front of him, getting closer and closer, stealing a chaste kiss- the first one today- pulling before Akihiko can respond.

His smile is like the sun, blinding and scorching and Akihiko is a fool that can’t stop looking and basking in it.

“I love you Akihiko!”

He doesn’t wait for a response -good Akihiko wouldn’t be able to articulate one in the first place- and closes the door, locks it up, starting to walk down the stairs and the road towards the studio.

Akihiko chuckles to himself and follows almost blindly, walking close to Haruki with their shoulders bumping from time to time and hands brushing each other but never really touching.

Ue-sama asks why his face is weird like that but Akihiko pays him no mind. Nothing can ground him from his floating on cloud nine from Haruki’s continuously looping words.

**Author's Note:**

> Ngl Akihiko's robot laugh started it all...  
It's finally done! For the whole month i have been putting one word after the other and I'm glad for the end result anyway!  
Tumblr @ callalilalma
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
